“Remember, we gave him those days off. He was justifiably angry with me. That would put him in the mood to defy me. After all that had happened, I really didn’t care if he saw her. I knew they started with texts in the office after that. I didn’t say anything. My guess is they were together every night since—none of my business. They were two sweet kids, and I thought I should stay out of it.”
“I’ve been watching the report on TV,” he said. “They interviewed Jaworski, other than that they’re just repeating information. They mentioned Lester was a suspect. Made a big deal of his being out of jail on bail in the Coleman case. Does Mel actually suspect he shot both of them?”
“Perhaps at first. They were scouring the bushes trying to find the murder weapon. The M.E. stated it looked like a .45 was used. Lester couldn’t handle such a weapon, let alone figure out how to fire it.”
“And it didn’t look like he was holding a .45 in that street-corner video,” he said, “What does Julia have to say about all this?”
“She’s among the missing, over forty-eight hours now. Eddy told me the police are looking for her.”
“Could Julia have shot Charlene?” he asked. “Could she have called Charlene over to the house? Have they even met? She isn’t likely to be carrying about a heavy .45 automatic either.”
“She didn’t call Charlene, idiot Lester admitted he did because he was quote lonely unquote. I know, I know, it’s unbelievable.” She could picture Martin also rolling his eyes.
“I trust they’re still out looking for Leo? He’s the one running around threatening everyone. What do you think? I know we don’t really have time to solve a second murder.”
“The tables are turned, Martin. Now I’m after Leo. It will be my pleasure to find Charlene’s killer and bring him to justice. I can’t imagine that he knew Charlene even existed—still, it must be him—who else?”
“You can bet Mel thinks the same. He’s not giving you twenty-four-hour protection because he’s worried about Julia coming after you.”
“Big news. Tonight, Lester finally admitted to me he shot Coleman.”
“Hardly a news flash.”
“No, but here’s the kicker—he saw Coleman with a gun in his hand, and that was why he fired. Don’t you love it? And you won’t believe this one—Julia told Lester she was having an affair with Coleman.”
“No way! He’d been in town only a couple of weeks. That really surprises me, Sandy. I’ve met her, seen her at luncheons. Julia Bardner is aggressive in business, but personally rather reserved. No way would that woman take up with a Miami Beach hood. I think she lied to Lester for some reason.”
“You might be right. However, some women are attracted to bad boys. Being a good girl can really get boring.”
He chuckled into the phone, and said, “How does she even know Coleman?”
“I’ll ask her as soon as I can find her.”
“Did Lester give you any idea why he was going after Coleman in the first place? Was it because he was stealing his wife?”
“Yes, apparently jealousy. Julia hinted to him that Coleman was going to break up their marriage. He admitted he stalked him. He had a gun in his hand, possibly intending to just scare Coleman, and he shot only after Coleman pulled his gun.”
“That’s fantastic. Is that what he in fact said, Sandy, or is that the way you’ll spin it?”
“Both. I don’t think he’s lying, Martin. And if he tells it that way on the stand, we have our Stand Your Ground defense.”
“I’m not so certain of that. Mel could argue Lester was the aggressor and Coleman was the one standing his ground when threatened.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She was talking off the top of her head; it would take time and research to build a solid case. “What if Coleman didn’t see Lester’s gun. What if Lester was holding it out of sight? Then Coleman becomes the aggressor.”
“Good luck with that one. Let’s hope that’s the way he tells it. At least, it’s his word against a dead man. I don’t think it’s clear on the video,” he said. “Okay, so we finally learn the connection between perpetrator and victim. And now we know the motive was jealousy.”
“If it was jealousy, then perhaps the money had nothing to do with it. At least as far as Lester was concerned—so where’s the money?”
After a moment, Martin said, “It’s late, hang up and go to bed.”
She was almost ready for bed when Jaworski called, “So late, I was going to leave a voice mail. They found Julia Bardner half dead in a hotel room. She was just rushed to the hospital. OD’d on something. They aren’t sure if she’ll pull through.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Sandy woke up gasping. Murky happenings were fighting against sleep trying to awaken her. It had been her intention to sleep in most of the next morning since she’d been up late with the Charlene Faulk tragedy. But her sleep was troubled and she awoke at dawn—something was bothering her. After sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute, she started remembering. Charlene was dead. Leo was still out there. And Lester had told her some crazy story about saving his marriage by shooting Coleman.
Something else… what?
She walked with a slight wobble through her quiet house to the front window and slightly parted the drapes. She squinted against the bright new morning. The cold front with its storm had moved on. Not a cloud south of Tallahassee. When she saw the patrol vehicle at the curb, with the glint of the chrome roof rack lights in the brilliant sunlight, the rest of it fell into place—Julia Bardner was hanging on to life in the emergency ward.
She wondered what had happened. Could have been an accidental overdose or something, but she doubted it—too much was going on. She pressed her eyes closed for a second and hoped the woman had survived. Survived and could overpower whatever demons were tormenting her. Sandy wanted to tell her that none of these happenings was worth giving up her life for, assuming it was a suicide attempt. And quite selfishly, she had questions for an alive woman that needed answering to successfully defend Lester. She’d hurry to the hospital hoping Julia saw a more hopeful situation in the light of a new day and would cooperate.
After a shower, a cup of instant coffee and a piece of toast, she dressed and was out the door. The officer left his vehicle and greeted her on the porch—said his name was Brewster. She asked if he wanted a cup of coffee or needed the bathroom. No, he’d just started his shift and was good. “But I need to show you something I just noticed.”
He started walking across the sopping wet lawn to the far corner of her house facing the street and she followed.
He stopped and put out his arm to block her. “I did a circle-check of your house, when I first got here a few minutes ago and noticed something unusual.” He pointed. “Let me guess, that corner window over there is your bedroom.”
She winced, knowing what was coming.
“I noticed a cigarette butt beneath that window. Didn’t touch it, but it looked fresh-not wet from the rain. Another butt nearby, older and soaked. Someone’s been around here more than once.”
She made an involuntary shudder while he was talking. She was certain she kept the blinds closed at night. Her bedroom curtains were sometimes open, but she assumed no one could see in with the blinds closed, although she’d never actually gone outside after dark and checked.
Officer Brewster continued, “We were told you’re being stalked, that’s why we’re here, but our view of this side of the house from our parked patrol car is blocked by those bushes. Someone could have walked in from the back.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want the police walking around patrolling the grounds. This is a quiet street. After thirty years of Chip Goddard and his Police Chief father, the older neighbors are used to seeing a police vehicle in this driveway. They don’t want a lawyer in their neighborhood who is so notorious she has criminals gunning for her. A low profile officer at the curb at night temporarily is all I want.”
“I’m reporting this now. I a
ssume you have no objection. This is evidence of stalking if we catch the guy.”
“It warrants a report, yet it’s not much of a crime scene. Good work, officer. Those cigarette butts were cork-tipped, weren’t they?”
“So you expected this?” The officer started to turn and then looked back at her. “Careless of the creep to leave those butts behind.”
“No. He wanted me to know.”
She phoned Eddy and explained it was Leo’s work. Doing it to scare her, letting her know he was serious. There would be no footprints in the grass and no DNA on the butts. For the neighbor’s sake, would he please forget the entire CSI hullabaloo and send out just a single detective to make a report.
“You might be right,” the detective said, “but I don’t see where frightening you gets him closer to the money. Following is one thing, you might lead him to the money. He has something else in mind if he wants to look in your windows and watch you.”
She had already shivered at the possibilities. “Okay, Eddy, do what you have to do, but do it quietly. Anyway, you don’t need me here, and I need a ride to the office. I left my car there last night in the storm.”
Ten minutes later a patrol car arrived for her. Brewster remained at the scene.
Once in the patrol car, she said, “Okay, you know where my office is, three blocks north of the courthouse. You can drop me there, so I can pick up my car. Then, I’m rushing off to the hospital in my own car.”
“My orders are to shadow you wherever you go, Miss Reid.”
“That’s more than I need. I just want a patrol car outside my house whenever I’m home and at the office whenever it’s open. Okay?”
“Sorry, I don’t work for you—although it’d be the best job in the department if I did.” he grinned. She got in the front seat. He drove down to the corner and swung out into the morning commuter traffic.
On the way, she phoned Eddy and protested about the security overkill. He told her to take it up with Shapiro. Then she asked him about the latest on Julia Bardner? Will she make it?
“Sleeping pills. Out of danger now, we think.”
“Geez, attempted suicide. Can you clear it with the hospital, so I can get in and talk with her?”
“Get in line. I have questions for her when she’s recovered enough to speak.”
“Why are the police interested in an attempted suicide? Oh, you mean question her about the Charlene Faulk shooting. Although, if she just tried to kill herself, she might not speak to anyone, and certainly not a policeman.”
“Good point. I’ll have a plain-clothes female talk to her.”
“She knows me, Eddy. Let me do it, and I’ll let you know whatever she says. I’ll try to find out whether her reason for trying to kill herself has anything to do with the Faulk shooting.” She took his silence to be an okay. “I guess you’re still looking for Leo—well, he’s out there somewhere. I’ll go to the office after the hospital and call you.”
Still well before nine when they pulled into the office parking lot to get her car. The office wasn’t open yet, and no patrol car was parked in front. Martin’s car was beside the building where he’d left it the day before when they rushed off for the meeting at the courthouse. She thanked the officer and took off in her own car. During the drive to the hospital, she noticed the patrol car behind was so close it looked as if it were being towed.
Within the hour, after waiting at the hospital to clear up some red tape about her authority, she was at the bedside of Julia, who was groggy but conscious. Sandy wanted to elicit as much information as possible before the woman regained her strength and her defenses. “Do you know who I am, Julia?”
From under the sheet she heard, “Go away and let me die.”
“What were you running away from, Julia?”
Finally, the woman answered almost too softly for her to hear, “Myself.”
“Lester is worried about you. We’re all worried about you.”
“God, my head hurts.” Julia drew the sheet down enough to peek around the room. She appeared pale, drained and wrinkled. Like a woman just brought back from death. She tried to focus her eyes on Sandy.
“Do you know who I am?”
Julia closed her eyes while giving a slight nod.
“We’ll tackle all of your problems one by one, Julia. And when we get everything cleared up, you’ll want to keep on living.”
She was surprised the woman could even speak. “Don’t bet on it. Anyway, I’m not talking with anyone ever again.”
“I need some answers.” Sandy leaned closer. “Lester has already told me you were having an affair with Ben Coleman. So you can skip all those denials and just start explaining.”
Julia held the sheet tightly around her neck. “I will tell you one thing only. That jerk Coleman wasn’t my lover. I told Lester that to make him jealous. So he’d give up Charlene and come back to me.”
She rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Lover or not, I’ll never understand why a classy woman like you would mess around with a badass like Coleman. How’d you meet him?”
She looked away. “Don’t want to talk about it. Please get out of here.”
“Then why’d Lester want him dead? The way he tells it, you got him all worked up with jealousy. First, you tell your lover you have a lover, and then you say you will divorce him. Sort of like a left hook followed by a right uppercut.”
Julia had to have provoked him; it was the only explanation that made sense. A common theme in the annals of criminal law and in the movies—the wife manipulates her boyfriend into killing her husband, so they can run off together. This was a twist. She had the wife manipulating her husband into killing her boyfriend.
“Okay, you wanted Lester to go after Coleman,” she went on. “You convinced him Coleman was his problem, that you intended to marry the guy, and Lester would be out on the street. You wanted to make him jealous, so he’d scare off Coleman. You wanted him to take care of Coleman. And he did. Why did you want Coleman out of the picture?”
Silence.
“Tell me about the gun.”
Julia voice was weak. “I usually keep a pistol in the glove compartment. From time to time, I drive around strange neighborhoods after dark showing properties. But Monday night, the night we argued, I brought it in the house while I was waiting for Lester.”
“You wanted the gun handy because you were afraid Lester would become violent when you accused him of cheating. So he does have a violent side. What kind of gun?”
“Don’t know, small, a .36 or something.”
“You mean a .38.”
“Whatever. I might have left it on the kitchen table, went to bed and forgot about it.”
“You didn’t forget about it, did you, Julia? You left a loaded gun on the table and later looked for it and it was gone.” She was stunned by the admission that Julia had instigated the murder. “You left the gun out on purpose, so he’d be able to see it, didn’t you? That’s why you’re drowning in guilt. That’s why you wanted to do away with yourself.”
“That was just part of it. I heard that my husband’s girlfriend had been shot in my driveway no less. That shook me. I still don’t know what that was all about. And then the storm. What I had done really started to hit me. That storm put my nerves on edge, set me off. All of that terrible thunder and lightning. All of it meant for me, for what I’d done. I took the sleeping pills out of my handbag. Coleman didn’t deserve to die. Maybe Charlene didn’t either. I don’t know about her.”
“Are you suggesting Charlene might have deserved to die? Have you ever met her?”
“Just that once when she came into my real estate office.”
That statement hung in the air. Sandy tried to keep a normal voice, “When was this?”
“About three weeks ago. I thought at first she was with Coleman, it was the same day he first came in.”
Sandy tried not to sound surprised. “Charlene and Coleman came in together?”
“I do
n’t think so. She came in first, something about renting shop space in a strip mall. Beauty Salon or some such. I got rid of her. I don’t do small time.”
“Did they seem to know each other?” Sandy was having trouble believing what she was hearing. “Tell me more.”
“So, Coleman was a real estate prospect, now we’re getting someplace.”
“That’s it. She left, and I started pushing properties on Coleman.”
“That was the first you met Coleman… that day Charlene came in?”
Julia nodded. “Maybe they knew each other. Maybe just a coincidence. All I know is it was the same day.”
“Do you know how Lester met Charlene?” She recalled Lester saying it was in a wine shop.
“Wouldn’t have been difficult. Dragging a fifty dollar bill through any honky bar would get him a couple of hits.”
Sandy’s face turned red at that crack and she glared at Julia. “Charlene wasn’t like that. She was respectable. An office manager at an exercise spa. Nice apartment.” She couldn’t believe Charlene was involved in anything other than a lousy love affair with a wife cheater. She wasn’t satisfied. She’d need to get back to the subject later. “Julia, you still haven’t told me why you wanted Coleman dead? Now I can guess it must have been something about real estate.”
She rolled away and curled up.
“What you’ve just said seriously incriminates you, Julia. I’d advise you to get an attorney right away, like today before you talk to anyone else. Do you know of a lawyer?”
“Grant Keller is a close friend who’s always helped me, he’ll know what to do,” she spoke into the pillow.
Close friend indeed, Sandy thought. She wanted to keep the woman talking and not drift back asleep. “Wait a minute.” She slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Leo told me Coleman was up here looking for an investment—real estate, of course. Geez, how could I have missed it? You’re the one with the money, aren’t you? You have Coleman’s quarter million dollars. Are you listening?”
Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) Page 17
